


A Month of Mondays

by felinefemme



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, F/M, Female Friendship, Gen, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felinefemme/pseuds/felinefemme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Let’s Write Sherlock Challenge 11, Mary has a regular Monday.  And keeps having it until it’s not a regular Monday any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Lovely Morning

She brushed back her short blonde hair as she sat behind her desk in a blue blouse, denim skirt, dark tights and cute but impractical heels, mystery novel in hand and work nonexistent this early in the morning. Mary Morstan cracked open her new paperback, figuring she might as well get some reading in before walk-ins showed up. “The dead body was the least of their worries,” she smiled absently at the paperback novel, until she smelled the intense level of cheap alcohol and excessive body odor. At 8:30 in the morning? she thought, until she looked up from her book to see as well as smell the drunk. She pasted a professional smile on her face. “Yes, sir, how can we help you today?”

“You can help me just fine, Miss,” the drunk in the business suit smiled, leaning over her and leering as he did so. “You’re a pretty thing to see in the morning.”

The blonde woman flinched when he reached to touch her hair. “Really, sir, you’re too kind,” she said, already scooting her wheeled chair back.

The drunk obviously didn’t catch the sarcasm, because he beamed widely. She then started to reach for the phone to call security, which was far too close to the drunk for her taste, but she couldn’t help it. “Got a personal matter, Miss,” and she didn’t bother to hide her disgust from both his body odor and bad breath, “I’d love your help with that.”

Before she could reach the phone, however, the doctor she was assigned to for the day came out of his office and started crowding into the drunk’s space (and incidentally, moving him further away from her). “What seems to be the problem?” he asks, his tone light and friendly, as opposed to his actions.

“Uh, nothing,” the drunk guy seems stumped by the question.

“Sure about that? Nothing I can’t help you with?” Dr. Watson is smiling, but there’s an edge to that smile Mary hadn’t seen before, and is mildly interested by. “Bar of soap? Paracetamol? Call to the police?”

The drunk in the suit shakes his head quickly, then seemed to regret that action, judging by the wince on his face. “Yeah, yes, I’m fine,” he said, over-enunciating his words as he started to stumble backwards from the doctor pressing into his space. It wasn’t long before he makes his way to the exit, shuffling as quickly as he could while trying not to look like he was running away.

The nurse and the doctor look at each other, and then Mary smiles. “Thanks,” she says, “nice timing, that.”

He nods, a little surprised. “Yeah, it was. I was just going out to get what we think is coffee. You want any?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No, I got a mocha and sandwich from the Pret around the corner.”

“Good idea,” he said, “cover for me ‘til I get back.”

She snorts. “So I should fend off unwarranted advances on our other nurses in your place?”

He smirks. “If you want.”

She shook her head, and he walked out. He was a funny one, that Dr. John Watson. Some of the other doctors only let the young pretty nurses get away with giving them lip, but Watson didn’t mind a bit of teasing from her. It was a bit of a game to get him in the right mood, is all. Since they went in shifts, some of the younger girls said that sometimes they felt bad teasing him, like he’d been through a divorce or lost a beloved pet or something. Mary knew what they meant, although she tried not to pry into people’s matters beyond their CV. All she knew was that he was also a war vet, and perhaps that was what was behind his moodiness. Still, he always had a smart remark whenever she prompted him, even if it was just enough energy for a one-liner.

And now she knew he was a gentleman. What was that movie with “gentleman” in the title? “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes?” No, it was… “An Officer and a Gentleman”. He was no Richard Gere, but then again, sometimes even Gere wasn’t Gere.


	2. Lunch at Janine’s

It was a gorgeous day, and for once, business was slow for both friends to actually meet on their pre-arranged lunch date. To make it easier on Janine, it was at the café located within the Magnussen-owned building. The glass walls let in both sunlight and a view of the passersby, but was tinted on one-side so passersby couldn’t see in. In short, it was a prime spot for people-watching and a meal, but without the worries of eating outside.

“Hello, love,” Mary smiled and kissed her friend’s cheek when they saw each other at the café doors.

“Hi, Mary,” the brunette smiled back, hugging her friend. “So, found anyone new?” she asked as they found a table.

The blonde groaned. “Look, I know David introduced us and all, but you don’t have to worry about my love life or lack thereof.”

“But I do worry,” Janine smiled, “that’s what friends are for.” Thankfully for Mary, the waiter came and took their orders, and for a moment, Mary thought the younger woman’s train of thought would be derailed, but no such luck. It wasn’t for nothing that Janine was the PA to a powerful media mogul. “Not even on the horizon?”

Mary sighed loudly. “I think you should find someone special for yourself first, hm?”

“I would, but too many boys don’t like me putting my job above them,” the brunette waves a hand airily, but Mary knows this hurts her far more than she plays it off, or she wouldn’t have mentioned it.

“Then find yourself a real man and not a silly boy,” Mary said warmly, patted her hand.

Janine smiled wryly. “Well, when you have a real man detector, you let me know and I’ll be the first to use it.”

Mary laughed. “You sure? I’d have to test drive it to make sure it works!”

“Oh? And what kind of rigorous, scientific medical study would you have, Ms. Morstan?” Janine raised an eyebrow.

“Nurse Morstan, thank you,” Mary shoots back.

“Nurse Morstan,” her friend stressed with an exaggerated face, and Mary rolled her eyes back. “Pray tell, do you have a sample of any such ‘real men’, or are they mythical creatures like Nessie or ghosts?”

“Oh, Nessie is absolutely real,” Mary says earnestly with a straight face. “Such a shame global warming killed her off.”

Janine blinked, and Mary laughed. “Oh, Mairz,” the long-haired brunette sighed.

“Janz,” Mary repeated in the same tone, and her friend made a face. “Sometimes, I think you miss reporting,” she muses.

“And sometimes, I think you should add to your medical education and be a therapist,” Janine shakes her head. “Seriously, you’d make a killing.”

Mary dimpled. “Something to think about,” she said.

“Oh, something else to think about? Actual men,” Janine leaned forward with a smile. “Come on, there’s gotta be someone dishy on staff, or a patient who comes in with an erection lasting more than four hours.”

Mary leaned back, nonplussed, then sputtered into laughter, joined by Janine. “Oh my God,” she gasped, “that’s rich!”

“Rich would be a plus,” the younger woman waggled her eyebrows. “If not for my sake, how about you? A nice chap, just the way you like them.”

They both knew she was talking about David, but Mary shook her head, then did a double-take worthy of Lucille Ball. “Oh, there was Dr. Watson,” she made a face when Janine leaned forward again.

“Doc-tor Wat-son?” Janine exaggerated the separate syllables. “What’s his first name? What’s he looked like? And what on earth happened?” She knew that Mary wouldn’t bring anyone up unless it was noteworthy.

Already Mary regretted bringing him up, but she forged ahead nonetheless. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that. “Well, he helped me get rid of a drunk, is all.”

Janine crossed her arms under her ample blessings, er, bosom. “I believe I asked you three questions, none of which you answered in detail, Mairz.”

Ugh, that nickname! Fine! She sighed, then rattled off, “John, shorter-than-average height with matching weight, blonde, bit older than me, tendency to dress conservatively, interrupted a drunk businessman trying to badly flirt with me this morning, and bullied him into leaving me alone. That’s about it, I think.”

“So, this blonde, Dr. John, is he cute?” Janine smiled lazily. “I think you missed on that bit of detail.”

She couldn’t say one way or the other, but knew if she said he definitely wasn’t Janine’s type, her friend would interpret that in all sorts of ways. “He’s… normal?” Mary shrugged.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then,” the brunette shrugged back nonchalantly. Then her lips quirked up. “He’s charming, though, isn’t he?”

“What?” Mary frowned. She’s fairly sure she hadn’t said anything like that.

Her friend smirked in that maddening way, the same way she did when she thought she was right. “While he was doing his knight-on-a-white-horse thing, you thought he was Prince Charming, didn’t you?”

Now Janine was being ridiculous. “You,” Mary pointed at her friend, “need to get laid.”

Janine blinked her large dark eyes. Then she nodded, matter-of-factly. “Yeah, yeah, I do.”

And that’s when the waiter came in with their meals, to find the attractive brunette and sparkling blonde laughing their heads off.


	3. Long Day’s Night

The train on her line broke down, which led to a lovely shutdown of Tube transportation for trains going her way, which meant she and everyone who meant to ride it had to depend on buses or cabs. And since she couldn’t afford a cab, as she was planning to move into a better neighborhood, she caught the bus. That bus led to another bus, which led into her slightly-dodgy neighborhood. She was so tired from her extended transportation woes that she didn’t notice the mugger until he ran off with her handbag. And, of course, she was wearing her impractical heels, since it started out as such a lovely day. Of course she could run in those heels, it would just be a shame to break them and have to hobble back home anyways, with or without her handbag, so she chalked it up as a loss.

“Dammit!” she yelled instead. The only consolation she had was that the idiot would be running off with her paperback, spare pair of glasses and makeup kit, rather than her wallet, which was still in her left jacket pocket. She pulled her keys out of her right pocket, sighed, and let herself into her flat. She initially planned to just have salad and a cup of tea, but decided to spoil herself and replace original meal with a glass of wine, meatballs with her salad, and homemade garlic bread.

And, all right, she curled up on the sofa and had a pint of strawberry ice cream, drowning her sore feelings in a mindless romantic comedy. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with stupid muggers, but it was the first time while wearing really cute shoes. She looked at the heels she’d slipped off and made a face. “You’re too bloody lovely to walk around in unless I’m driving or catching cabs,” she muttered, and picked up the heels and regretfully put them away. Sure, they made her legs look great, and gave her a few inches, but unfortunately, they weren’t good for chasing down a mugger. Then she realized they were also a gift from Janine, who wanted her to indulge a little, and the regret came back. Still, she’s sure Janine would want her to be happy with her wallet rather than unhappy with broken heels and/or feet.

Mary sighed again, then took a shower, wishing she could wash out the stupid drunk from the morning and the stupid mugger from the evening. She was glad she had a chance to catch up with Janine, though, they’d spent far less time together after she and David broke up. She’d have to fix that. She got into a comfortable pair of pajamas, then went through her usual nighttime routine of brushing her teeth, then her hair, then a quick facial, and then groaned. She was tired enough to want to go to bed on time, but remembered she couldn’t, not just yet. Before bed, she had to dig up a serviceable handbag and assemble a decent makeup kit later (and perhaps buy another copy of that paperback tomorrow morning).

It only added an extra 35 minutes to her routine, but she was already wiped from the stress of the evening, so once she washed off her face, she flopped into bed, and unconsciousness followed soon after.


	4. Waking Up

Mary had a bit of an odd morning, since her handbag had turned up on her kitchen counter, as if her mugger had kindly broken in and left it there, probably because there was nothing inside for a straight man to resell or use. Not wanting to push her luck (or uneasiness at the skillful break-in), she went off to work, and found herself happily going through her mystery novel when an unpleasantly familiar smell caught her attention. “Seriously, are you back again?” she asked when the drunk businessman shuffled into view.

“What do you mean?” he squinted at her. “I’ve never, never seen such a beautiful lady before today.”

Ugh. “Honestly!” she glared, standing up with her hands on her hips. “Go home!”

Dr. Watson came out. “Sorry, what’s going on?” he asked, looking at her, then at the drunk.

“He’s back!” Mary jerked a thumb at the drunk. “Why is he back?”

“Back?” the doctor frowned at her, then at the drunk. “I think I’d remember treating him.”

“You didn’t treat him,” the nurse sighed. “You chased him out yesterday.”

The frown, rather than easing off his face, deepened instead. “I was off yesterday. Besides, I think I’d remember chasing out a salesman ten drinks into the morn, laid off work about six months ago and lost your flat, what, one, two months ago, and well on his way to losing a functioning liver if he keeps on.” Then he blinked, and he positively glowered. “Stupid git.”

“What?” the drunk looked offended.

“No, not you, me,” Dr. Watson now looked impatient, then shook his head. “You obviously aren’t here for rehab, that’s on the third floor, don’t think I could interest you in taking the lift there, could I?”

Strangely enough, the drunk huffed off in a cloud of self-righteous indignation, and the doctor and nurse watched him with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

When he was gone, Mary shot the doctor a look of disbelief. “Has everyone got amnesia?” she asked. “He was here yesterday. You shooed him out, I swear!”

The doctor’s confusion would seem strangely endearing, if she didn’t feel like strangling him. “Should I get you another coffee?” he asked. “I’m going to get one myself, weekends seem to be hanging on longer than expected.”

Mary stared at him. “I’m not hungover,” she said, “honestly, one would think people would get the hang of things by Tuesday.”

He frowned. “It’s Monday, Nurse,” he said, and went off to the break room.

She frowned after him, then checked her computer. Monday, 8:37 a.m. She pulled out her smartphone and got the same thing. _This is ridiculous,_ she thought as she called Janine. “Oh, thank God,” her friend said on the other end, “I was just going to call you to confirm. I’m dying to get out of the office today.”

A chill ran along her spine, hearing the same words she heard from Janine yesterday. “We’re still on, then?” she said, attempting to keep her tone normal, light-hearted.

“Yeah,” Janine gushed, “I’m usually swamped on Mondays, but everything cleared up, just like the skies!”

 _This can’t be happening,_ Mary thought, _am I on some kind of reality show? Where they fix my computer and smartphone, which is fairly comprehensive for such a show?_ She didn’t put it past unsavory producers to get her coworkers and friends in on it, but she wondered why they’d pick someone like her. And she also wondered how fast she could get off that show, because she really didn’t like to be in front of cameras. For now, though, she’d play along, just to be on the safe side.

So she put up with the lunch, which seemed like a repeat of yesterday, and while she couldn’t see any cameras, it didn’t mean they weren’t there, especially since this was Magnussen’s building, for all intents and purposes.

When she got back to work, rather than having that lovely energized feeling talking with a friend, she felt more stressed out than ever, and not even the lunch eased that feeling. It also didn’t help that Dr. Watson kept a cautious eye on her throughout the rest of the day, like she was still suffering from a mythical hangover or a maybe not-so-mythical mental breakdown. And when she found that the train broke down (again?), she sighed, then caught the two buses. Because she was expecting the mugging, she went down another street, but still indulged in wine to go with her salad and garlic bread.


	5. Trying Strategies

After that first “week”, when it became painfully obvious that not only would this Monday keep going, but that she would be the only one who knew it was repeating and remembered the previous iterations, she felt alternately omniscient and helpless. So she decided to experiment as often as possible to see what would work, if there would be any noticeable changes for the next day.

On what she termed the eighth Monday, Mary called in to work late when she caught a later bus, and neatly avoided the drunk businessman. Likewise, she caught a taxi that dropped her off right in front of her flat, and avoided getting mugged that way. “Avoidance as strategy is a bit pathetic, but we’ll see how that makes a difference,” she murmured as she flipped through the channels, a bit disappointed that the rest of the world continued to repeat its same mistakes, but a bit relieved to know that it wasn’t her pocket of London that stayed the same. It was a bit depressing thinking that people would still be doing the same things, over and over, herself included.

Since she hadn’t apparently pushed the magic “go” button after that depressing revelation, when the ninth Monday rolled around, she and Janine had lunch at the Chinese restaurant near the surgery, and they had to try the fortune cookies. “Why do I always get the career ones?” Janine wailed. “I’ve already got a good job, I don’t need to ‘do something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life’! And isn’t that plagiarism?”

Mary smirked, since she had some silly thing that read “Follow your heart and all will be well”. “Perhaps we should switch fortunes,” she said, showing her scrap of paper to her friend, who waved her hands wildly, spouting some nonsense about the purity of the thing. Honestly, if it was as “pure” as Janine claimed, then they wouldn’t have to stoop to ripping off cat motivational posters!

On the tenth Monday, she cancelled the lunch date just to see if it would have an effect. The only effect she noticed was that she rather missed her time with Janine, and decided not to skip that again. Besides, having lunch in the canteen was a bit depressing, with no one but families of patients there. For some reason, she seemed to be one of the few staff members there, and they were the more unsavory type. She found herself reading her mystery book more assiduously and was a bit more impatient with people coming in to the office. Dr. Watson, strangely, didn’t seem to mind her less-than-friendly attitude, as it seems his lunch went well. Oh well, she supposed somebody had to have a good one.

On the eleventh Monday, she had lunch with Janine at the Magnussen building, and asked for the not-so-grand tour. That was one thing about her friend, she genuinely loved her job, and was thankful for friends who weren’t envying the hell out of it or trying to get into it. Mary felt a bit bad for Janine, who had to be so careful about certain aspects of her career’s effect on her relationships, that she was blind to how it affected other aspects of those relationships. At the same time, however, Mary genuinely did not want Janine’s job, nor did she want to get into any aspect of the media, so the younger woman was completely safe on that front. They’d even made it to Janine’s office, when the P.A. was summoned to Whitehall. “Honestly?” Mary raised her eyebrows.

Janine made a face, but then grinned. “What can you do, working for the most powerful man in Britain?”

“Thought that was the PM,” Mary smiled, and let herself out, but found herself gushing about her friend to Dr. Watson, who she saw before she saw any of the nurses. “Lucky Janine,” the blonde doctor smiled, “she’s got herself a good friend.”

Mary shook her head, “I’m just surprised she doesn’t have more,” she said, “she’s so smart, and attractive, and funny, and so damn good at her job… gosh, it sounds like I have a crush on her, don’t I?”

He chuckled, “How many friends are that supportive these days? It’s only a crush if you want to snog her senseless and then some.” Then he raised an eyebrow. “Unless you do, in which case, I’m all for it.”

She laughed, but when he went into his office, she sobered up. So he lost a good friend, then, and possibly one people had put him in a relationship with. Perhaps he wouldn’t have minded a different sort of relationship with that person, and judging by their conversation, a male friend. She pushed that to the back of her mind, however, since she had a more pressing issue at hand.

When the twelfth Monday came around, she dealt with the drunk, but avoided the mugger. Both Dr. Watson and Janine were surprised, but appreciative of her method with dealing with the drunk, which was throwing a vase of water into his face, then knocking him over the head with the empty vase when water didn’t stop him. “Never thought I’d see that outside of the telly,” Dr. Watson said mildly, but smiled. Janine, however, started to equate her friend with a feminist ninja, which tickled Mary to pieces. Sometimes, her younger friend could be so cute.

The thirteenth Monday had her avoiding the drunk, having lunch with Janine at a Thai restaurant, and dealing with the mugger. So far, she thought that was the best of all iterations.

Apparently, she was wrong, because there was a fourteenth Monday. So she avoided the drunk flirt, but ended up missing the lunch because an orange cat ran out in front of the cab she was going to catch. She wound up racing to a vet to save the cat, and called Janine to tearfully cancel, and it was Janine who wound up reassuring her friend that the cat would be fine, Mary was a nurse, and she’d gotten the cat medical help quicker than anyone else. The vet didn’t help, saying that the cat was a stray and its initial health was already dodgy, and should probably stay a couple of nights. She wanted to scream that the cat didn’t have that long, because Monday would just repeat itself. Instead, she nodded, wiped her eyes, and went back to work.

“What happened?” Dr. Watson asked, when he came out for a cup of tea.

His concern almost sent her into another round of tears, but she held herself together. “I missed lunch with Janine because the cab I was about to catch ran over a cat. So I took the cat to a vet, and he said it should be okay in a few days. I hope.”

“I hope so, too,” he said, briefly squeezing her shoulder, “would you like some tea, too?”

She shook her head. “No, I,” she cleared her throat, “I’ll be fine.”

His gaze flickered slightly, but he nodded, and left. She sighed, putting her head in her hands. A cat hadn’t been part of the iterations before. Hopefully, it was a sign that Tuesday would be coming soon, since it was a noticeable break in the pattern.

But no, there was a fifteenth Monday. That day, she went through everything by rote, not changing what she did that first Monday, including wearing her cute heels. Thankfully, there was no near-miss with a stray cat, but she wasn’t sure there wouldn’t be something else to throw things off. Her primary experiment, however, was that she decided to stay up through midnight and see what happened. Somehow, when the clock should have changed to midnight the second after 11:59:59 PM, she woke up to Monday the next morning at 6:00 AM, fresh as a daisy.

“Dammit,” she sighed, for the sixteenth Monday to get underway.


	6. Getting Drastic

The blonde part-time nurse was starting to get desperate. The next week of Mondays, Mary began acting like a prick at work, scaring off the drunk flirt in the morning, as well as incoming patients the rest of the day. She blows off Janine’s lunches, and deals with the mugger in a more permanent fashion.

The nineteenth Monday reinforced her bad mood by staying Monday, and because she was snapping at everyone, it made everyone, including Janine, think she was on her menses. Idiots. If time actually worked the way it was supposed to, it would’ve happened two weeks and a half ago. The whole useless, wasted day culminated in two glasses of wine and staying up late (or at least until 11:59:59 PM).

On the 20th Monday, she doesn’t even bother to shower or change her clothes on top of her blistering attitude. Dr. Watson comes out and snaps at her when her sharp tongue sends another patient home in tears. “Nurse,” he glared at her from across her desk, “for God’s sake, at least have a shower.”

She shrugged, comfortable in her sweats and shirt. “Why should I? Nothing will change.”

He gave her a long look. “My eyes will stop watering, at least.”

Mary stared at him. “What?” She’d seen him treat actual homeless people with more respect than he’d just shown her, the drunk flirt notwithstanding.

“At the very least, you could look and smell like a professional, even if you don’t act like one,” he went on, unperturbed by her shock. “I know it’s a Monday, but you could have a shower in the staff washroom.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re treating me like a child.”

“You’re acting like one,” he shot back. “I’d bend you over my knee and spank you, but I think I’d enjoy it too much.”

Oh. Well. “I’ll, um, go and shower,” she said, not sure what to say about his sexual proclivities without sounding like she was flirting. Ugh. So she went off and had a shower, and to her disgust, felt loads better, even if it was still Monday.

The 21st Monday wasn’t much better, as she thought, _To hell with it,_ and since it really didn’t seem to matter what she did, Mary Morstan decided to experiment wildly. That morning, she got off two stations away from the surgery and went to the coin-operated locker where she kept remnants of her old life. She shoved a small bag containing her dismantled gun and silencer into her handbag, and walked out. Then she went to a Primark to get a few things, nothing fancy. The mark of a true woman is being able to wear her purchases immediately, she thought sarcastically, and pulled her newly-bought knit cap and coat on a couple of blocks away from the surgery and proceeded to stalk the drunk businessman before shooting him in the head and back. She called in late to work, then she took the back route to Magnussen’s office, shot the security guard, shot the security camera in Janine’s office and knocked the PA out, then she calmly shot Magnussen.

And then, after tossing the knit cap and coat into a clothing recycling bin and tucking her weapons back into the locker, she went to work in a better mood. “I should come into work late myself,” Dr. Watson commented, “it’s done wonders for you. Is that a new perfume?”

Mary smiled at him, her perfume covering whatever gunpowder smell she might’ve had left after her thorough washing in the women’s room at Magnussen’s building. “Yeah,” she said, “it’s called Clair de la Lune. It’s a bit young, but I like it.”

He smiled back. “No, it suits you,” he said, and walked into his office.

That night, wearing a nice dress she’d bought that morning, she went to a bar, and had sex with a handsome man. The next Monday, the 22nd, she did the same thing, only she slept with a woman. Sadly, she woke up to another Monday.


	7. Learning Lessons

Finding that the hedonistic lifestyle wasn’t working (although shooting Magnussen was rather satisfying), Mary decided to try another tactic. On the 23rd Monday, she skipped work, and proceeded to do some homework at the library. She looked up anything and everything related to time loops, time travel, repeated days, and found herself in the realm of science fiction and, oddly enough, comedy. She supposed if this happened to someone else, it would be funny, but knew that of all the days she’d want to relive, this definitely wasn’t one of them. It was a stupid, boring _Monday_ , for God’s sake! So she went home with her borrowed movies and books, and read and watched the hell out of them, taking mental notes as she did so. She wasn’t sure if it was a reflection on humanity or idiocy that she made the same mistakes the protagonists of said books and films did, and she was a woman! She really ought to have known better.

So for the next set of Mondays, Mary made it a point to notice and learn about everything and everyone around her, whether or not she met them on a Monday otherwise. In a way, it was like going through training all over again, and she was a bit disappointed to see how rusty she’d gotten, even if she had gotten away with murder a few iterations ago. She knew people were unobservant, but it was a bit depressing to find she’d become the same way. Next, she made it a point to be kind to those she came across, whether or not they deserved it. 

The 24th Monday, she found it was Dr. Watson’s birthday, and the reason why he was in such a good mood after lunch for most of the iterations was because most of the staff had pitched in for a party. Despite being relatively new and a bit quiet at times, Watson was fairly popular because of his friendly, harmless nature and ability to deal with the worst patients with a firmness that a few of the younger staff envied. So the next set of Mondays, even though she was lunching with Janine, she got him a silly hat that read “Birthday Boy” in a childish blue font.

That Monday, she also learned that Dr. Fuentes had a thing for her, but unfortunately for him, she didn’t have a thing for him. Mary made a moue of disappointment. Fuentes was all right as a doctor, but as a person, he was as flaky as a senile aunt. She decided to nudge him towards one of the younger nurses, Betsy, one who wouldn’t mind so much as she was a bit flaky herself. And Mary wasn’t surprised when Fuentes and Betsy left the surgery together that afternoon. _Well, at least two people got something out of it,_ the blonde nurse thought, and repeated the matchmaking with slightly varying degrees of success.

Another Monday, she gave the homeless owner of the now-lucky cat a takeaway box of fish and chips. Not the healthiest thing, granted, but at least the old man would have something to share with his pet, and feed himself, too. She’d never noticed the old man in the previous iterations because she’d not wanted to, but now rebuked herself. She should always pay attention to her surroundings, even in this new life.

On another Monday, she made friends with a Pakistani couple on the way to work, and on the first bus going home, she made friends with a Chinese family. The Kianis were a young couple who were expecting their first child, and they looked so excited at the prospect that Mary felt an almost-forgotten pang of longing for the same. It was one of the reasons why she and David broke up, she couldn’t see herself relying on him should children come along, despite his stable and affluent job. Perhaps she is a bit old-fashioned, but she’d like to know that her child can rely on his or her father, whether or not she’s in the picture. As for the Wongs, the husband had a terrible sense of humor, relying heavily on puns, but his patient wife smiled as she refrained from smacking him upside the head. Their three teenaged children were like teens anywhere, embarrassed to be with their parents, but proud enough to wear the clothes and technology earned from their work at the family restaurant. Mary got an invitation to dine at their restaurant, and she gladly accepted, even though she wasn’t sure how far in the future that would be.

In spite of all the lessons learned, however, it was still Monday. So on the 29th Monday, she went to the coin-operated locker, and put the contents of the locker into her handbag. Rather than leave the station, however, she went into the women’s room and shot herself in the face.


	8. The Monday After

When she woke up, she was surprised, relieved, and rather depressed to be alive. Then again, if the universe insisted on making her go through this damn day, then she might as well be alive to do it. So when she got to work, she was a bit wonky and the drunk businessman leered into view before she was in a proper frame of mind to deal with him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a sharp voice snapped, and both she and the drunk startled at the voice.

“Oh, Dr. Watson,” Mary put a hand to her chest. “Thank God.”

“Doctor, got yourself a very, very, very lovely woman on the job,” the drunk man leered at her.

“And you should get yourself onto the third floor,” the doctor said, steering the man out.

“Why? Whass on the third floor?” the drunk man asked, belligerently, trying to dig his heels in, but his limbs weren’t quite cooperating.

“Rehab,” Dr. Watson said succinctly.

“What, NO!” the drunk businessman roared, and ran out of the building.

The nurse and doctor looked at each other, and then laughed, Mary more hysterically because her nerves, like her brains from the previous iteration, were completely shot. “Mary, Mary,” the doctor said urgently, putting his hand on her shoulder, “are you all right?”

She shook her head. “No,” she said, “this day’s been going on forever, and it’s just the morning.” Then she put her elbows on the desk and covered her face, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m ready to face the day.” _Again and again and again,_ she thought despairingly.

“I’ll get you some coffee,” he said, straightening up. “Any preference?”

“Mocha, completely fatty with milk and chocolate,” she said automatically, then pulled her hands from her face. “Thank you,” she added quietly.

He smiled a quick smile, then left. She exhaled, then went to the loo to clean her face. When he came back, she found he got himself a cup of coffee as well.

“Are you sure you’re up to working today?” he asked, leaning against the doorway.

She shook her head. “Might as well do something productive today and get paid,” she said, smiling mirthlessly.

He gave her a long look, then nodded. “All right,” he said, “but if anyone like that drunk comes by, you give a shout.”

Now she smiles. “You enjoy being a white knight, Doctor?”

His smile is brisk and businesslike, but he doesn’t seem to be offended. “More than you enjoy being a damsel in distress, Nurse,” he said. “Tell you what. Next time someone like that comes in, we’ll switch places, and you can rescue me.”

Mary narrowed her eyes, then laughed, the first genuine laugh she’s had in ages. “I’m sure you’re quite popular with drunks,” she said.

He nodded, “Yeah, my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.” Then he claps a hand over his mouth. “Oh my God, tell anyone that and you’re a dead woman.”

She bursts into a fresh peal of laughter. “Where on earth did you get that from, a teen on the Tube?”

He makes a face. “Worse, my sister. Don’t tell her that, either, she’d never let me live it down, her boring brother quoting her and all.”

“Shall I tell her that her white knight brother quoted her, then?” Mary grinned.

“Oh, Lord, that’s worse!” Dr. Watson groaned. “I hope she’ll never come ‘round!”

Mary would retort, except her phone rang, and she saw it was Janine. Might as well meet up with her and have a good meal out of the day. “Yes, we’re still on,” she smiled. Janine was relieved, and for some reason, that made Mary happy. “So, lunch at your place?” At the affirmative answer, the nurse scrolled through her own appointment list on the computer monitor, even though nothing had changed from the first iteration. “I’ll see you, Janine.”

When she ended the conversation, she was surprised to see the doctor with a surprised smile. “Thought you were talking with your boyfriend there,” he said.

“I think I’ll tell her that,” she said, “she’d be lucky to have a girlfriend like me.” And she lifted her chin up, as if daring him to say otherwise.

Instead, he gave her a half-smile. “I take it the day doesn’t look very busy then,” he said.

She shook her head. “There are a couple of patients coming in before lunch, and four slated after. Unless there are walk-ins,” she paused, “like that lovely fellow you suggested to the third floor.”

“Hopefully ones seeking an actual G.P.,” he qualified, smiled, and went into his office. And, as before, there were three walk-ins before lunch, but nothing special. 

However, Dr. Fuentes came by when Dr. Watson was out and as Mary was getting her handbag to go for lunch. “Mary, er, Nurse, a moment?”

Mary smiled professionally. “Yes, Dr. Fuentes?”

“It’s Alan, and I was wondering if you knew about Watson’s surprise party.”

Her smile deepened to a real one. “Yes, but I’m meeting a friend for lunch.”

 _Shame, he is rather handsome,_ Mary waffled internally. “Male friend?”

 _Oh dear._ “Why don’t you ask Betsy?” she said. “I don’t think she knows about the party.”

“Betsy?” he blinked.

Mary nodded. “She’s at Dr. Hurley’s office. Nurse Betsy Craddock. She’s free, I’m not.” She smiled briskly. “Have fun at the party, Alan.” She practically flew out the door, and she took the Tube to meet Janine at the Magnussen building, where they had a lovely meal.

“Remind me why we’re friends?” Mary joked when Janine needled her about men.

“Because while I may be radiant when I have an active sex life, you need someone to remind you are practically the sun when you have an active love life,” Janine shot back.

Mary blinked. Well. That was unexpected. “Am I really?” she asked.

The brunette groaned and rolled her eyes. “Honestly? I’m surprised some gent hasn’t picked you up at work yet.”

That reminded Mary of the morning’s events. “Ugh, let me tell you about one gent who tried,” and she and Janine laughed over the drunk’s miserable attempt.

“What about that doctor, Watson, right?” Janine asked. “He sounds nice.”

The blonde woman was about to argue when it struck her. Yeah, he was nice. And he could be as snappish as she could, from what the previous iterations showed her, which was interesting. “Yes, he does, doesn’t he?” she frowned a little.

“What’s wrong?” her younger friend asked.

Mary smiled. “He thought you were my boyfriend when you called,” she said, “I think he was jealous of you for about fifteen seconds.”

“What?” Janine sputtered. “I don’t sound like a man, do I?”

The blonde laughed. “No, I think it was the way I talked with you. Honestly, I don’t think he’s seen women being friends with women before. I did say I’d tell you you’d be lucky to have a girlfriend like me, so there you go.”

“Oh my God,” Janine shook her head, “he’s going to want to see us be lesbian girlfriends together.” She made a face at Mary’s rolled eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that, you know straight men get hot and bothered by some ladies’ loving.”

“I am never going to see you now without thinking about Dr. Watson thinking about us snogging the life out of each other,” she deadpanned.

She got the desired effect when Janine groaned. “All right, all right, Mairz, I’ll shut up about it,” she said. “So, what about this doctor? He seem promising?”

Mary frowned. She noticed that out of all the Mondays, she’d never gone out or slept with Dr. Watson. Hm. “Maybe,” she said. Then she smirked at Janine’s expression. “Let me think about it, would you? I swear, you probably have us married off already in your head.” She didn’t tell Janine about Dr. Fuentes, who was obviously a lost cause for any woman with common sense. If that doctor had a bit of consistency, she would’ve set Janine up with him, but she doubted the PA to the biggest Western media mogul would put up with anyone who forgot their dates after a while.

“Somebody’s got to have a love life around here,” Janine sniffed. “Might as well be you.”

“So young, and so cynical,” Mary affected a disappointed tone, but she’s smiling anyways. Janine’s not in the media business for nothing. “So, when’s the next time you’re free?”

Janine opens her mouth, when her phone rings. Never, she mouths, but answers with a professional smile, “Yes, sir.”

Mary leaves her share of the money on the table and walks out. On her way to the Tube station, she sees the orange cat that nearly lost its life several iterations ago, and she smiles. It doesn’t take long for its elderly owner to shuffle out, and she offers the old man a sandwich from the café she’d just been in, and he takes it with a gentlemanly nod before tearing it in two and giving half to the cat. The blonde woman smiles briefly, then goes to catch her train.


	9. The Night After

Her lunch with Janine planted an idea in Mary’s head, and she thought she’d try it out. “Dr. Watson?” she asked, when she saw him coming out of his office.

“Yes?” he said, eyebrows slightly raised.

She might as well go for it, she’s relived every other possibility, including suicide. “Would you mind having dinner with me tonight?”

“What?” he blinked.

She smiled briefly to hide her sudden case of nerves. “Consider it a birthday treat.”

“Oh, so this wasn’t it?” he pointed to the silly hat on his head.

She laughed. “If you want it to be, yeah. Or you can come with me and we’ll get something delish.”

“I’d love something delish,” he smiled. Then he crooked his arm out. “Shall we, Mary Morstan?”

Her lips quirked up. “We shall, John Watson.”

She decided to take the first bus home rather than a cab, because she wanted Wat – no, John, to meet the Wongs. She had a feeling they’d get along, and she was right. Mr. Wong and John traded horrible puns, making everyone around them, including Mary, groan. She wasn’t expecting to go to their restaurant that night, but when Mrs. Wong heard it was John’s birthday, the new couple was immediately invited for dinner at their place. The two older boys groaned, but that was to be expected, as they were in the older teen stages, while the girl, Melissa, was a recent thirteen and even more impressionable than Janine when it came to romantic things.

John was shaking his head when they reached the restaurant. “I think it’s my lot in life,” he said, “to have either a full meal and pay for it, or a free meal and have to dash three bites in.”

She snorted. “That’s horrible luck.”

He shrugged. “Then again, the full meals were usually takeaway, while,” he paused, “my friend seemed to know a restaurant in every taste. Didn’t do too well guessing fortunes in the fortune cookies, though. But he also said you could tell a good restaurant by the amount of grease on the lower third of the doorknob, and he was right about that.” They were shown to a nice corner table by the window, and Melissa came out with a little plastic lantern and a flower. It wasn’t a rose, but it was pretty. “First time I’ve gotten a date table with a woman, too, and didn’t have to ask for it. Usually, I’ve had to ask for at least a candle.”

Mary smiled. “Your friend sounds like he was a lot of fun. What was he like?”

John blinked, surprised, but did so, hesitantly at first, especially when they were in the midst of ordering, but once they got their meals, he really got going, and they were laughing about Sherlock’s more ridiculous experiments when Mr. Wong brought in the fortune cookies. “Thanks, Nicky. You sure this is from the factory and not handwritten?”

Mr. Wong laughed loudly and slapped the greying doctor on the shoulder. “I told you, I write ‘em all!” he said, oblivious to John’s wince. “Look, this is the first!” He cracked open a cookie, and read aloud, “Don’t go the right way, go the Wong way!”

“Oh my God,” John groaned, but both he and Mary chuckled. “Okay, okay, you wrote them.”

Then Mrs. Wong came out to pull her husband away by the back of his collar, “Stop bothering them, they’re on a date, ugh, you have no sense of romance, come on, come on…”

As she’s scolding him, Mr. Wong winks broadly at them, and John and Mary can’t help but laugh. “Let me guess,” she said when the Wong couple have left the room, “ ‘You will meet a beautiful, mysterious woman’.”

John laughed and handed her his fortune, which read, “Follow your heart and all will be well”. She stared at it, and while she was doing that, he stole hers. He sat on it, preventing her from getting it unless she stooped to underhanded methods. She’ll save that for a later date, so she just sighed as he closed his eyes and guessed, “Your fortune says, ‘You work with a very handsome, charming man’.”

She decided to tease him and say, “I didn’t realize you had a thing for Dr. Fuentes, John.”

His eyes flew open, and so did his mouth, but he sputtered into laughter. “You are absolutely abominable,” he glared at her. Then he added, completely deadpan, “Too bad you’re rather cute, rather kills the whole effect.” She blushed, to her surprise, and he pulled the fortune out of his ass, well, it looked like it. He looked at it, and he reared back in mock-surprise. “Well, I was right.”

“No, you’re not,” Mary argued, reaching for the small scrap of paper, “it says ‘Seize the tao, not the day’.”

“It says ‘tao’,” John said, pronouncing it with a “t” sound.

“Yes, but it’s supposed to be pronounced with a ‘d’,” she said, “and you knew that.”

He smiled. “So, have you seized your tao?” he asked, pronouncing it correctly.

She paused, deciding to give it some thought, for once. “I thought I did,” she said seriously, “honestly, I was pretty sure I was, but I guess not.” _Otherwise, I wouldn’t be stuck repeating this bloody day,_ she mentally added.

He put his hands over hers. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it,” he said. “At least, I keep telling myself that, and some days are better than others.”

She turned to see him still smiling, and she found herself smiling back. “I guess so.” Then she yawned hugely. “Sorry,” she grimaced, “I know it’s your birthday, but it’s been a long day.”

His smile deepened before it slipped into a more familiar, polite expression. “Yeah,” he said, “I get that. I’ll walk you home. Where do you live?”

Mary raised her eyebrows. Apparently, he did have some morals in that he didn’t snoop on eligible staff (unlike some other staff members she knew, herself included). “If we catch another bus, not too far from here,” she said.

“Good,” he said with a brief smile. Apparently he was no stranger to unsafe neighborhoods or to behaving like a gentleman to a lady living in one.

“Thanks,” she nodded.

And that’s what they did. Either it was too late for the mugger to be out, or he got scared off seeing her with John, but nobody accosted them on the way to her flat. Odd. Then again, this night has been full of odd things, not the least of which is the man standing with her before the front door. And for some reason, she feels inexplicably nervous.

It seems he is, too. No, wait, licking his lips seems to be a regular habit. Oral fixation, perhaps? “Mary.”

“John,” she says in the same tone, and he smiles. “What?”

“I like hearing you say my name, rather than ‘Dr. Watson’,” he answers honestly. “You could call me that at work, too, you know.”

“Oh, all right,” she said. He was awfully sweet. Why was she thinking that? How tired was she? _It’s after hours, and it’s a normal date,_ she reminds herself, _it’s okay to think like that._

“Well, um, I had a nice evening,” he said.

She finally forces herself to really look at him, and she has to admit she likes what she sees. “So did I,” she said, “it’s okay to kiss me, John.”

He blinked, then smiled, and did just that. It was a short and sweet kiss, the type you get on a first date. Then he brushed a lock of hair from her face, and she smiled to ease the tension that didn’t seem to be leaving after that brief kiss. “Good,” he said in a huskier voice. “Okay to kiss you again?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice. This time, he held her head and she closed her eyes. He was a really good kisser, she mused as she kissed him right back, but she wouldn’t mind doing this again for the next amount of iterations. “Wow,” she said when they pulled apart.

“Yeah,” he said intelligently, then made a face. “Oh my God, it’s sounds like I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Mary smiled at him. “You haven’t kissed me before, have you?”

“No, I haven’t,” he agreed, “mind if we keep doing it for a while?”

“I don’t mind,” she said, and she didn’t. Well.

Then he bit back a yawn, and looked apologetic and charming at the same time. How does his face do that? “I’m so sorry, haven’t been a night person in a while,” he said, “and some lovely blonde is keeping me from my bed.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” she said, a corner of her mouth going up, “you should let that lovely blonde know your bed’s more important.”

He nodded smartly. “Too right,” he said. “Mary, your bed’s more important.”

She laughed, and so did he. “And I’ll remind you of that fact if it’s Monday tomorrow instead of Tuesday.”

He chuckled and brushed her hair from the right side of her face before he kissed her cheek. “Good night, Mary.”

“Good night, John,” she said, then let herself into the flat.

She heard him as she locked the door behind her. “See you tomorrow.”

 _I hope there is a tomorrow,_ she thought.


	10. Tuesday

She grabbed her smartphone and reflexively checked the day when she turned the alarm off. Then she brought it to her face and checked it again. “WHAAAAAT???” she yelled. And checked it again.

Tuesday. It was Tuesday. Tuesday! Finally! It’s a bloody Tuesday at last!

She was so happy, she screamed and danced all over her bedroom, then through the rest of her tiny flat, not caring that people were yelling at her or throwing things at their walls to get her to shut up. She was so happy it was finally Tuesday!

Then she ran back to her bedroom and jumped on the bed. Yes, it was completely juvenile, but extreme measures had to be taken for extreme situations, and she was extremely happy. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” she shouted, bouncing on a bed that would probably complain if it were sentient. “It’s Tuesday!”

That morning, she wore a nice blouse to go with her jeans and trainers, got two coffees and a croissant at the Pret, then she practically assaulted John by hugging him tightly and declaring, “It’s Tuesday, John!”

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I can’t wait to see what Wednesday is like,” he commented, hugging her back.

“Shut up,” she grumbled, and he let go. So did she, after a beat. “I told you Monday was forever for me.”

“Apparently,” he said dryly, and she almost punched him for that. Instead, she gave him the coffee that was black with two sugars, and took a large gulp from her own mocha. “So, will this happen every day, or only on Tuesdays?”

Mary narrowed her eyes, then smirked. “Depends on what happens after work,” she said before tearing into her croissant. Might as well chase this and see where it leads, as it might have been one of the many things that happened yesterday to influence the change into today. And it was so good to even think the words “yesterday” and “today” and know that they actually mean something! She never thought she’d be in the realm of grammarians, physicists and sci fi writers, but then again, she’d had a very strange, very long set of Mondays.

John regarded her benignly. “Is that a challenge?” he raised an eyebrow.

“That’s an invitation,” Mary said before taking another gulp of mocha.

When he smiled, it was slow, cheeky, and charming, and… wow. It was for her. And she liked it. A lot. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

She was about to say no, when she remembered it was finally Tuesday, which meant dinner and book club at Cath’s. She’s fairly sure she’s the only one who’s read more than five books for once, which should shock the hell out of her hosting friend. “Sorry,” she said, “got dinner with my book club.”

“Ah,” he said, “guess I won’t be getting the enthusiasm and coffee tomorrow morning.”

She rolled her eyes. “John Watson, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“Mary Morstan,” he cocked his head to the side a bit, “would you like to go for a walk in the park after work sometime this week?”

She smiled. “Thursday night, yes,” she said. Then the phone rang, and she adopted her professional voice, “Dr. Watson’s office.” She started to laugh when he mouthed “Thursday” and winked largely with a thumb’s up, then she glared at him as she inputted the appointment with the caller, trying to keep a straight face and voice. That jerk.

Of course, they kept on flirting through the rest of the week, and even when they were assigned to different nurses or doctors. Mary noticed it took him a while to reply to texts, but he was usually prompt with phone calls, unless he was with a patient. Not a fast typist, but it doesn’t stop him, she smiled to herself. And when Thursday rolled around, they were in fine form already. She can’t be sure if John is her tao or not, but she’s fairly certain he’s her lucky charm, breaking the time loop unexpectedly. She can only hope this version of her is enough for John, in this life.

THE END


End file.
